Wanting to get out into the countryside again, I made the somewhat spontaneous decision to head for Whitby, a town on the Yorkshire coast that inspired Bram Stoker when he wrote Dracula. It's an odd combination: part seaside resort (more ice cream parlors than you can shake a stick at), part magnificently Gothic. On a hill overlooking the town and the steep sea cliffs, there are several structures, the most relevant being a splendid ruined abbey, an intact church with a small but jam-packed graveyard, and the hostel where I'm staying. It's a somewhat insane hill to climb with full luggage, but the views are superb. You can look out over the North Sea and imagine a ship sailing in through a storm, carrying an unholy passenger. Tomorrow, I'm going off hiking, probably along the coast (and probably in the rain...whee!).
Assuming, of coarse, that Dracula doesn't get me in the night.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Amazing vanishing Sparrow
I have not been successful at updating this blog. Sorry, loyal followers! I've been spending lots of time with my friends and staring at the glowing rectangle of a computer monitor has been even less of a priority than usual. I'm back on my own for a few days, but a serious update isn't going to happen tonight because I've already spent a lot of time online trying to plan my onward journey and internet cafes ain't cheap. However, here is a list of places that I have been since last I updated this blog:
-Aberystwyth (for Sonia's fabulous wedding, and again for Danny's graduation)
-London, where I went to small portions of several museums, saw Troilus and Cressida at the Globe, and much more
-Telford, home of the amazing Danny and his many cats
-Stonehenge, which wasn't as good as I'd hoped but still interesting
-the Lake District, which is stupendously, astoundingly gorgeous, though rainy (hence the lakes). I want lots more time there.
-Liverpool, home of the super Sonia and her family, plus interesting public art and annoyingly muddy beaches (Those were my cleaner walking shoes, darn it!)
Now, I'm in York, which I really like. The cathedral alone ate much of my day. More details about all of this later, possibly. Or not.
-Aberystwyth (for Sonia's fabulous wedding, and again for Danny's graduation)
-London, where I went to small portions of several museums, saw Troilus and Cressida at the Globe, and much more
-Telford, home of the amazing Danny and his many cats
-Stonehenge, which wasn't as good as I'd hoped but still interesting
-the Lake District, which is stupendously, astoundingly gorgeous, though rainy (hence the lakes). I want lots more time there.
-Liverpool, home of the super Sonia and her family, plus interesting public art and annoyingly muddy beaches (Those were my cleaner walking shoes, darn it!)
Now, I'm in York, which I really like. The cathedral alone ate much of my day. More details about all of this later, possibly. Or not.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Dorms for grown-ups with green thumbs
Overall, I'm really enjoying my stay here in Herefordshire at Canon Frome Court. This farm is actually a community. There are a bunch of people sharing a big, old house and its outbuildings and running an organic farm for their own consumption. It would not be quite accurate to call it a commune, since many people also have outside jobs and all the families own their flats within the estate, their own possessions, and they only eat one meal a week together, but it's definitely a more communal lifestyle than the norm. In a way, it reminds me of an adult version of living in Mary Lyons, my beloved college dorm, where everybody has their own things to do but they socialize and help each other out. They make group decisions by consensus, just like Swatties prefer. (Unsurprisingly, I met one woman here who's Quaker.) I don't know if I could live here or a place like it permanently, since the farm work, food prep, and upkeep mean that you don't seem to have a lot of truly free time, but it's a majorly idyllic place to visit. They get all their own milk from two cows and several goats, and much of the cheese, yogurt, and ice cream are homemade,n as is the jam. The fresh produce is really good. I'm feasting on odd English fruits like red currants and gooseberries. Kids run around, climbing trees and generally having the sort of freedom and space that very few have these days. There are a number of ridiculously friendly cats of the sort that get so happy you are petting them that they start drooling. There are also lambs and goat kids, currently making a racket because today was weaning day.
I was almost glad when I heard about a group meeting that turned somewhat contentious about certain issues. Before that it seemed almost too perfect, and I was beginning to suspect that there must be some really serious catch like a yearly human sacrifice or something. So far, no sign of that.
Anyway, I've been doing a mix of jobs: weeding, clearing patches of nettles and poison hemlock, washing off the front of a flat in preparation for painting, picking and sorting fruit, digging up a pile of muck and leveling the ground in preparation for new compost bins, and hacking my way through a jungle of holly and ivy in an attempt to cut the ivy off at its base to keep it from overrunning an outbuilding. Some of it has been hard, but the berry-picking has been nice and low-key. The people are very hospitable and interesting, and I've eaten with a different family every night, so the company is varied. I especially enjoy this 75 year-old lady who has lived all around the world and still works in the garden.
The house is a handsome Georgian mansion, retrofitted into quirky flats with multiple levels and brightly colored walls. I have my own room with a window seat, plus a wee kitchenette so I can do breakfast on my own. This suits me fine, since I'm not much company at breakfast anyway (unless, of course, you like people who grunt and glare a lot). There's a church on the grounds, independent of the community, with a small but interesting graveyard. Much of the garden is walled in to shelter it from wind and rabbits. I'm enjoying myself here, although today I tired myself out with too much digging. Later, while I was trying to plant spinach, it started pouring down rain. That was fun, though I got rather thoroughly soaked before admitting defeat and heading inside.
My last blog entry didn't get to my trip from Abergavenny to here. I went through the town of Hereford, where I owe eternal gratitude to the nice lady in the tourist info office who let me stow my luggage so I could go look at the cathedral. In the cathedral, they have something called the Mappa Mundi, a big medieval map showing the known world. Out at the unknown edges, it has things like dragons, people with their faces in their chests, and other such craziness. It was neat, although they have the map mounted too high, so you can't see the top part. They also have a chained library, a collection of books chained to their shelves because when they were collected books were so valuable that they had to be guarded from theft that way. It reminded me of Terry Pratchett's Discworld and all the books in the library that had to be chained up to protect people from the bloodthirsty books. Sadly, I saw no orangutan librarians in the Hereford Cathedral, just aggressively informative volunteer ladies.
I'm here for a few more days, then I head north and get to see my fabulous friends. Yay!
I was almost glad when I heard about a group meeting that turned somewhat contentious about certain issues. Before that it seemed almost too perfect, and I was beginning to suspect that there must be some really serious catch like a yearly human sacrifice or something. So far, no sign of that.
Anyway, I've been doing a mix of jobs: weeding, clearing patches of nettles and poison hemlock, washing off the front of a flat in preparation for painting, picking and sorting fruit, digging up a pile of muck and leveling the ground in preparation for new compost bins, and hacking my way through a jungle of holly and ivy in an attempt to cut the ivy off at its base to keep it from overrunning an outbuilding. Some of it has been hard, but the berry-picking has been nice and low-key. The people are very hospitable and interesting, and I've eaten with a different family every night, so the company is varied. I especially enjoy this 75 year-old lady who has lived all around the world and still works in the garden.
The house is a handsome Georgian mansion, retrofitted into quirky flats with multiple levels and brightly colored walls. I have my own room with a window seat, plus a wee kitchenette so I can do breakfast on my own. This suits me fine, since I'm not much company at breakfast anyway (unless, of course, you like people who grunt and glare a lot). There's a church on the grounds, independent of the community, with a small but interesting graveyard. Much of the garden is walled in to shelter it from wind and rabbits. I'm enjoying myself here, although today I tired myself out with too much digging. Later, while I was trying to plant spinach, it started pouring down rain. That was fun, though I got rather thoroughly soaked before admitting defeat and heading inside.
My last blog entry didn't get to my trip from Abergavenny to here. I went through the town of Hereford, where I owe eternal gratitude to the nice lady in the tourist info office who let me stow my luggage so I could go look at the cathedral. In the cathedral, they have something called the Mappa Mundi, a big medieval map showing the known world. Out at the unknown edges, it has things like dragons, people with their faces in their chests, and other such craziness. It was neat, although they have the map mounted too high, so you can't see the top part. They also have a chained library, a collection of books chained to their shelves because when they were collected books were so valuable that they had to be guarded from theft that way. It reminded me of Terry Pratchett's Discworld and all the books in the library that had to be chained up to protect people from the bloodthirsty books. Sadly, I saw no orangutan librarians in the Hereford Cathedral, just aggressively informative volunteer ladies.
I'm here for a few more days, then I head north and get to see my fabulous friends. Yay!
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Fourth of July in England: No fireworks
I'm in England, staying at a farming community called Canon Frome in Herefordshire. It's near the Welsh border. It's rather idyllic here, but first let me discuss a bit about what's happened since my last blog post.
After leaving Cardiff, I took a train up to the Welsh town of Abergavenny. It was a hot and humid day, more suitable for Georgia than the UK we imagine. I didn't get in and check into my hostel into mid-afternoon, too late for any of the neat mountain walks around Abergavenny. Luckily, the tourist info office pointed me down a 4.5 mile, largely flat hike that was doable in the time I had. Part of it was along a canal, through woodlands, and quite nice. Before that, though, I had to cross a roundabout of pedestrian peril. Throughout, it was really hot and humid. I had loaded a bit too much stuff in my daypack, and my feet were not getting along with my boots. At one point, I thought, this hike will be really fun when I'm done with it! And so it was. I did see a neat some neat old-fashioned canal boats, and the decidous forests in the sticky weather reminded me of home.
The next day, I set off on bus to the ruins of Tintern Abbey, made famous by a poem by William Wordsworth, "Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey" (or something...I can't be bothered to doublecheck that title right now). Getting there involved two bus rides. On the second, I was the only passenger. The driver was new, and an experienced driver was leaning over his shoulder to consult on the route. They spent the first part of the bus ride having a rather loud conversation about the new driver's divorce, his new fiance, and comparing the frequency and quality of sex with the ex and the new fiance. Later, they decided to talk with me and asked me why I wasn't traveling with a boyfriend. I think I am capable of riding a bus without a man. I hate it when people act so shocked that I'm traveling alone. You can bet they wouldn't be so surprised if I were male. We are in the 21st century, for crying out loud! In a developed country! Grr, sexism.
Anyway! Tintern Abbey was gorgeous. The ruins are close to a road and quite popular with tourists, but on a weekday they weren't so overrun that I couldn't have bits of time alone with the ruins. It must have been beautiful when it was whole, but I liked it even better ruined. Swallows swooped among the towering pointed arches, and the lack of a roof gave it a marvelous lofty feeling. It's a cathedral for the birds and the sky.
Anyway, I haven't described anything about the farm I'm at, but I should really get off of this borrowed computer. More later.
After leaving Cardiff, I took a train up to the Welsh town of Abergavenny. It was a hot and humid day, more suitable for Georgia than the UK we imagine. I didn't get in and check into my hostel into mid-afternoon, too late for any of the neat mountain walks around Abergavenny. Luckily, the tourist info office pointed me down a 4.5 mile, largely flat hike that was doable in the time I had. Part of it was along a canal, through woodlands, and quite nice. Before that, though, I had to cross a roundabout of pedestrian peril. Throughout, it was really hot and humid. I had loaded a bit too much stuff in my daypack, and my feet were not getting along with my boots. At one point, I thought, this hike will be really fun when I'm done with it! And so it was. I did see a neat some neat old-fashioned canal boats, and the decidous forests in the sticky weather reminded me of home.
The next day, I set off on bus to the ruins of Tintern Abbey, made famous by a poem by William Wordsworth, "Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey" (or something...I can't be bothered to doublecheck that title right now). Getting there involved two bus rides. On the second, I was the only passenger. The driver was new, and an experienced driver was leaning over his shoulder to consult on the route. They spent the first part of the bus ride having a rather loud conversation about the new driver's divorce, his new fiance, and comparing the frequency and quality of sex with the ex and the new fiance. Later, they decided to talk with me and asked me why I wasn't traveling with a boyfriend. I think I am capable of riding a bus without a man. I hate it when people act so shocked that I'm traveling alone. You can bet they wouldn't be so surprised if I were male. We are in the 21st century, for crying out loud! In a developed country! Grr, sexism.
Anyway! Tintern Abbey was gorgeous. The ruins are close to a road and quite popular with tourists, but on a weekday they weren't so overrun that I couldn't have bits of time alone with the ruins. It must have been beautiful when it was whole, but I liked it even better ruined. Swallows swooped among the towering pointed arches, and the lack of a roof gave it a marvelous lofty feeling. It's a cathedral for the birds and the sky.
Anyway, I haven't described anything about the farm I'm at, but I should really get off of this borrowed computer. More later.
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